A night to remember
by Limetheawesome
Summary: Sougo Okita grieves. He grieves after his sister's death. Hijikata is not the best at consoling. A reflection of the events that occurred after Mitsuba Okita's death. Oneshot. HijixOki yes yes i know the title is crappy


Lemon: I'M BAAACK!

Ikuto: No one wants you. You're a terrible author. You abandoned Lessons. -_-

Lemon: AHAHAHAA. I'm so sorry. But you see, I've turned into a huge Gintamatard lately, and my writing style's changed, sort of. Hope you will enjoy this story.

Ikuto: She doesn't own Gintama or any of its characters.

Okita silently stepped out into the cool summer air, head throbbing and eyes swollen.

It was a hauntingly beautiful night. Had it been a few years back, he would be enjoying it, sitting at the feet of the dojo, admiring the star-filled sky.

But that had now become an unattainable wish.

Okita stood, frustrated. Looked up. The sky seemed to be mocking him, an expanse of twinkling stars giving a sense of false hope. He feels like a fool.

He reaches for his sword, wishing to release the tension and the burden of his stress with a few quick swings. Only he found himself grasping a handful of air. So he let his arm drop. His shoulders hitched, and he suddenly unleashed a series of sobs.

_Stop it,_ he thought, _your sister's dead. No use grieving over what's gone. It won't bring her back._

A lump formed in his throat as he held back his tears. A sense of desolation crept into him, and he collapsed onto his knees. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Hey. Sougo. Get up."

The all-too familiar voice shook him from his state of nostalgia. Okita raised his head to find the source of his distress, the reason for his suffering.  
Hijikata.

Had his sword been there, the bastard would have been knocked down in seconds. Which would satisfy the brunette temporarily, although not completely. Because his sister was irreplaceable. Because Hijikata was not good enough. Because the bastard took too much from her.

Too much. All too much.

Okita reluctantly, but calmly, stood up. His mind was in a state of conflict. His hostility and hatred for Hijikata has not been released.

His eyes he drained of any emotion now trained hard on Hijikata, and he prayed, prayed for the despised vice-commander to go to hell.

"What?" Okita began coolly, a murderous edge deliberately added to his voice. "Hijikata-san, you know what you've done. There's no chance for repentance. I wish you would die. I really do."

Okita spat the last few words, then strolled past Hijikata calmly, his hidden anger threatening to ascend from its sepulture buried deep within his heart. He had never felt toward one person resentment to this degree, not even Hijikata. The years of attempting to kill the vice-commander now seemed like child's play.

Okita stepped into the dojo that was now devoid of any light. The darkness was overwhelming, but the captain liked it that way. It was peaceful. A reflection of his own sorrow. He grabbed a katana from the side wall, unsheathed it, swung it a few times. It was relieving to have his hands on a sword again. He closed his eyes, mentally exhausted.

He promptly envisioned Hijikata standing in front of him. His face shows remorse, his expression of guilt. Okita knew he felt very responsible for Mitsuba's death. Nonetheless, the brunette lashed out at the simulation.

It felt good. It felt too good to stop. As the metal edge of the sword made contact with the vice commander's body, Okita felt like he was avenging his sister and retrieving happiness from Hijikata, retrieving everything he stole from her. He swung harder and faster, eventually beating a wounded, and initially, defenseless Hijikata to unconsciousness.

Okita cried out in a twisted form of joy. His sadistic side has shown itself, like it had many times before, but this time with meaning, this time laced with a bitter heartache. He missed her. So much.

The captain realized he was breathing very heavily. He leisurely opened his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing pattern, while cursing at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.

_Hijikata… you bastard._

A single tear flowed down his cheek.

_You. Fucking. Bastard._

Okita trod slowly to a corner and sat. He was too tired now to think. Slumping down with his head in his hands, he wondered to himself why he hasn't killed Hijikata. It would be an easy task for him.

_No, _he thought, _it's not that I don't possess the ability to do it. _

Okita shook. It was not the first time he's felt so helpless, so deprived of his emotional control. He didn't know why. His sister's death was saddening, for sure. But a different feeling was mixed in with the despondency, something he felt towards Hijikata. A familiar emotion he couldn't quite name crept into his heart, leaving an aching sensation in its wake. He clutched his chest.

"Sougo."

The captain looked up to find Hijikata standing a foot away from him, eyes trained anxiously on the katana by the brunette's feet. Realising that the vice-commander was wary of his close proximity to the weapon, he kicked it away, letting Hijikata have a sense of security.

"What?" He asked in an indifferent tone.

"Sougo, I know. I know much I took from Mitsuba. And to be so selfish, to never give back any of it. That's who I am. A selfish idiot. But I want to make it up to you."

Hijikata said this in an awkward tone, bringing about a tense air as he spoke. He then walked slowly toward the younger male, hands in his uniform pockets.

Okita looked at the dark-haired man bitterly and said, "Make it up to me, huh…? No use, Hijikata. There's no way you can ever repent. You've taken away everything she had, everything I had. I want to kill you. I don't understand myself what has prevented me from doing so."

With that, he stood up.

And pulled the vice-commander into a kiss.

Lemon: Hope you enjoyed that! XD Please R&R


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